


Blown Fuse

by maaaaa



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23658334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa
Kudos: 10





	Blown Fuse

Blair pounded on the door of apartment 307. He waited, jiggling impatiently, for about ten seconds before pounding again.

“Go away!” shouted a hoarse-throated voice from beyond the door.

Blair brightened…success at last.

“Hey man, have you got a spare fuse?” he hollered. He pounded on the door yet again.

This time the voice was closer; just on the other side of the door from the sound of it. And a bit crankier than the first time.

“What the hell part of go away don’t you understand?” it rasped.

“Come on, man, I blew a fuse. How about it?” Blair asked. He had the discomforting feeling he was being scrutinized through the door’s peephole and tried not to appear too flaky.

The door swung open just far enough for him to catch a glimpse of the man on the other side. He was big for starters. A big guy with some pretty impressive muscles who looked like something the cat just dragged through several nasty alleys before dragging it in.

“Hey there, thanks, I’m really in a bind here, man,” Blair explained.

“Why didn’t you just go to the super?” the man asked.

“Yeah, I tried that first and he’s out. And it’s after eleven so the hardware store two blocks over is closed. And I don’t have a car. The buses are still running, but I don’t know the area that well. And it’s dark,” Blair finally petered out, seeing that the big guy was loosing interest fast.

“And let me guess, you’re scared of the dark?” the big guy deadpanned.

“Huh? What? No. I just can’t see in the dark and I need to see to finish a paper that’s due tomorrow,” Blair answered. “I tried every other apartment in the building, you’re my only hope here, man.”

“Yeah, right, me and Obi-Wan,” the big guy quipped. “Hang on, I’ll be right out,” he added with a deep-seated sigh that said very clearly he was being inconvenienced.

He came back in a minute, opened the door and stepped out.

In the light of the hallway the guy didn’t look as rough as Blair’d first thought. In fact, he looked pretty damn good, if one was disposed to like the looks of a six foot something or other well built dude with a fuzz cut, stubble on his chin, dressed in a muscle tee, faded denims that hung loose in the just the right places and hugged tightly in all the others, and pristinely white socks. Right, so maybe the white socks could go.

“Lead on, Junior,” the big guy suggested, pointing toward the staircase.

“Huh?’ Blair said dumbly.

The big guy rolled his eyes toward the ceiling in an overly exaggerated show at being annoyed before answering, “Take me to your apartment so I can see what kind of fuse you need. Every apartment in this building seems to have different wiring.”

Blair studied the man’s incredibly blue eyes as he stupidly followed his gaze up toward the ceiling.

The big guy leaned against his door, held out an assortment of fuses in one hand, and cleared his throat.

“Oh! Oh yeah, right,” Blair said, flashing a sheepish grin. “I’m down in 107. I’m Blair by the way. Blair Sandburg.” He extended his hand, but the big guy just stared at him, his jaw set in an impatient grimace. “Right,” Blair noted. He dropped his hand. He turned and headed down the stairs with the big guy right behind him.

Blair could feel those blue eyes boring into him. He was suddenly very conscious of what the guy in 307 must think of him, with hair down to his waist, and his earrings, and his scrawny physique poured into baggy clothes that hung too loose pretty much everywhere and not in a good way like they did on him.

Time to make sure the old bi-vibes are turned way down, Sandburg, he cautioned himself.

“So where’s your fuse box,” 307 asked as they entered 107. “Never mind,” he added right away as headed past the kitchen, “the layout looks pretty much the same as mine.”

“Don’t you want a flashlight?” Blair asked as he snagged the one he’d left on the kitchen counter and held it up.

The lights came on a second later.

“How’d you do that?” Blair asked. He looked at 307 with an awestruck smile.

307 ignored the question as he took a good look around the apartment.

“This is Doug Mahoney’s apartment,” he said. He pinned Blair with a narrowed-eye scowl. “What’re you doing in it?”

Blair shrugged, made a goofy face and joked, “I’m squatting. Needed a place to crash, no one’s been here for a few days, so it seemed as good a place as any.”

307 didn’t look amused. He sounded even less amused. “How old are you kid?”

“What?” Blair responded. “Why?”

307 reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. He flipped it open and displayed a badge.

“Because I need to know if I should run you in downtown, call Juvie, or just put you over my knee and spank you,” 307 stated tersely.

Blair gulped. The first two threats sent a chill down his spine. The third one sent shivers straight to his cock. He backpedaled away from 307, waving his hands in a back-off gesture. He reached into one of his pockets and fished out a key. He dangled it in the air.

“Hey man, I was just kidding. Doug’s a friend of mine. I just got back from an excursion a few days ago and he said I could stay here. See? I have a key,” Blair reasoned hastily. “He’s in California at a convention. We can call him.”

307 put his badge away but never took his eyes off Blair. The look said a lot, but Blair wasn’t sure he understood it all.

“Right,” 307 said. “That was a stupid thing to say.”

Blair nodded vigorously in agreement. “I seem to be doing a whole lotta stupid lately.”

“So, how old?” 307 asked again.

And this time Blair knew exactly what 307’s eyes were saying. He licked his lips and wiped sweaty palms against his jeans, kneading the fabric in his fists in an agitated motion.

“I, uh, I have a paper to write,” he evaded. His eyes darted to a slew of papers and books strewn across the coffee table.

“I’m Jim,” 307 offered.

“Right. Jim. Well, thanks man, for your help, and it was good meeting you, and---,” Blair’s words stumbled feebly from his mouth. He glanced wildly around the apartment, avoiding looking at Jim.

“What do you fear Blair?’ Jim asked in a calm, enticing voice.

Blair looked at Jim then and shook his head, not sure how to answer, not sure how not to answer.

“Are you afraid I’ll carry out my threat and put you over my knee?” Jim demanded in a voice so soft, so full of Blair didn’t know exactly what that it made him weak in the knees. “Or are you afraid I won’t?” he challenged.

Blair’s lips quivered as he met Jim’s gaze. He nodded his head.

Jim made sure the door was locked and then he crossed the room and took all Blair’s fears away.


End file.
